Darker Than Blue
by MyMagentaPeach
Summary: Blaine comes home exhausted, falls asleep in Kurt's arms, and wakes up devestated. Can Kurt being there for him help? (Contains light smut and references to depression).


**A/N: PLEASE READ! This is important to me, and the story, I think. **Robin Williams, I … I don't even know what to say, except for: That sucks so much! I have loved this man's mind for so long, and gosh, his presence. From the distance that I only ever got to see and experience him from he appeared ever so full of wonder and life. I can only hope and aspire to be as alive as he was for a lot of the time he had for as much as I can of mine. I was exhausted from working anyway already, when the news hit, so much so that I sat around crying just from exhaustion last week. And so I am not sure what exactly brought this story on, just that I got sad today, just that I needed to write it. And go home now and probably cry some more. To me this story is about the overwhelming sadness, and devastation that comes with depression, and how it hits you out of the blue, oftne without explanation, and leaving you unable to explain, struggling to cope with the strange too intense abscence and presence of feelings.

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**Darker Than Blue**

Blaine had not been through the door for more than 31 seconds when he had, still toeing off his shoes collapsed onto the couch, and into Kurt's lap.

Only giving a non-committal groan in answer to Kurt's question, "Tired?"

So with Kurt putting his book aside and gently carding his fingers through Blaine's hair, Blaine soon had fallen asleep.

A nap, no more than 20 or so minutes had been all he had intended, but he had woken, alone on the couch, wrapped tightly in a soft, warm blanket, too warm now, and head resting on a small pillow … hours later.

The headache had burst forward with the tears, the sniffling, the snot, before anything else had had even a chance to set foot in his head.

Kurt, out of Blaine's sight, but just meters away in the kitchen, had been kneeling in front of the other boy still just lying there crying, within seconds. "Hey. Hey! Babe, it's okay, I am here. I'm here. What's wrong?"

Blaine had kept crying as Kurt had scooted closer still, lying down with Blaine a moment later, wrapping him tightly in an embrace of their bodies, from head to toe.

Blaine had stayed silent, completely, except for the tears.

Only when he had calmed tangibly in Kurt's arms Kurt had asked, "Want to get some fresh air?"

"Don't want to be around other people," Blaine had mumbled back, into Kurt's chest.

"Balcony?" And by that Kurt had of course meant the fire escape stairs he had once called Blaine from, for that first talk after much too long.

"Okay."

So they had cuddled up outside, the blanket wrapped around them both, protecting them against the evening shill spreading rapidly through the gathering night air.

They had stayed there, simply breathing together the cooling, darkened air, Blaine cuddled in Kurt's arms, head resting against Kurt's chest. Breathing. The headache and stray tears soon evaporating.

Kurt had not asked again, 'What's wrong?' knowing his fiancé would tell him if he felt he needed to, if and when he felt he could.

In the end it is when they are later under the covers of their bed together that Blaine whispers, Kurt grinding slow and deep into him, Blaine's head thrown back one moment, the next turned up and buried against Kurt's neck and shoulder, Kurt feeling new tears and stilling completely, searching out Blaine's eyes, that Blaine whispers, "Everything hurt. I just woke up … and everything hurt, my head just was so full, and heavy, and I felt like my skull was about to crush my brain. I was so done with everything … I just wanted it to stop, and I didn't know how."

Kurt is about to pull out and forget about orgasms all together tonight when Blaine grabs at Kurt's behind, and pulls him back in deeper, "Please stay."

"Blaine," Kurt's voice sounds clipped and sad.

"You made it better. You made me better. Please, … stay. I love you so much. Please …," and Blaine feels so silly for saying it, but he does not know other words to say this, and hopes his eyes, piercing Kurt's with certainty tell him exactly what these clichéd words miss every time, "Please, make love to me."

For a while they just lie there, connected, kissing, long and slow kisses, full of purpose and aim, assuring each other, mutually, 'I'm here.' Without words that can bring doubt or be misconstrued. There is trust, as complete as it can grow in the caress of each other's bodies, for each other, to each other.

The slow, gentle shifts of Blaine's and Kurt's limbs with each other punctuated only by breaths hitching the longer it goes on, and murmured "I love you"s, brings tears to both boys' eyes.

Bodies intertwined, resting foreheads together, they tenderly pull each other of the edge … dare to fall, together.

Neither quite sure what it means tonight, both sure what they want it to.

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A/N: Yeah, no, the love making sort of just happened. I think, I needed something life affirming, and what could be more so than love. I know, "Try as I might, I'm just a silly romantic."


End file.
